Ho Chi Minh City's media outlets shut down, sparking quiet dismay

Several major media outlets in Ho Chi Minh City, long familiar to the public, have successively ceased their print publications, bringing their operations to an end. A journalist from Tuổi Trẻ newspaper expressed their feelings on social media, stating their heart sank at the demise of the print medium with its scent of ink. A reporter from Pháp Luật TP.HCM newspaper posted photos of the final editorial work, writing "With many memories." A reporter from Người Lao Động newspaper shared their packing from the editorial office on social media, which garnered many sympathetic and sorrowful comments. Dr. Lê Hồng Giang, an economics and finance expert, questioned the decision-making process behind the closure of an economics newspaper, stating, "Why the closure? Neither the editorial department nor we know. No one has been asked for their opinion." He expressed disbelief that the newspaper's business model or the demand for an economics specialist publication had disappeared, noting that these media organizations do not receive any funding from the state budget. A quiet yet profound sense of disappointment and regret has spread across social media regarding the closure of these media outlets. Many stakeholders appear to question the rationality of the authorities' decision to consolidate and centralize media organizations. However, no open voices of opposition have been raised. Since the end of the Vietnam War in 1975, Ho Chi Minh City (formerly Saigon) has maintained a vibrant media scene within the framework of the Vietnamese Communist Party. In the past, in addition to the tradition of free press that existed during the Republic of Vietnam era, newspapers led by intellectuals and religious leaders known as the "third force" were also temporarily permitted after reunification. However, in recent years, the space for press freedom has gradually narrowed, and the current closures symbolize the end of an era for Saigon's media. Following the fall of Saigon on April 30, 1975, two newspapers from the Republic of Vietnam era were permitted to continue operating: the daily Tin Sáng, run by Ngô Công Đức, Dương Văn Ba, and Lý Quí Chung, and Đứng Dậy, the new name for the magazine Đối Diện before 1975, overseen by priests Chân Tín and Nguyễn Ngọc Lan. These were intellectuals, politicians, and religious figures who had opposed the war and the policies of the Republic of Vietnam government before 1975, some sympathizing with the National Liberation Front, while others maintained a neutral stance. They were referred to as the "third force" and were expected to serve as a bridge for reconciliation, harmony, and the gathering of intellectuals after 1975. The government's decision to allow the republication of two newspapers from the "third force" had a clear objective: to use familiar newspapers and journalists from Saigon to communicate the revolutionary government's policies to the people of Saigon and the South. In his memoir, Lý Quí Chung—former Minister of Information during the final period of the Republic of Vietnam and later known by the pen name Chánh Trinh after 1975—recounted: "In early September 1975... the daily Tin Sáng was republished. The reappearance of a newspaper familiar to Saigon residents before 1975 clearly had a positive impact in a new context where many things were very new and strange to the people of Saigon, now named Ho Chi Minh City." This was a period when the new government established several newspapers in the city just as the guns fell silent. First were Sài Gòn Giải Phóng and Phụ Nữ Sài Gòn—launched in May 1975. They were followed by Tuổi Trẻ (September 1975), Công Nhân Giải Phóng, later renamed Người Lao Động. Upon their establishment, the newspapers of Ho Chi Minh City immediately participated in the revolutionary government's propaganda efforts. In an article published in Tuổi Trẻ, Trần Bạch Đằng vehemently condemned: "One of the heinous crimes of American imperialism and its lackeys" was "denying true beauty, beauty of content, spiritual beauty" and "promoting superficial beauty, false beauty, and purely material beauty." In another article on Tự Do Street—renamed Đồng Khởi after 1975—published in Tuổi Trẻ on January 13, 1979, author Trần Bạch Đằng acknowledged the city's hardships while criticizing the "artificial prosperity" of the past: "[...] We only object to three aspects of any prosperity. First, does that prosperity truly represent our country's productive capacity...; second, what is the price paid for that prosperity—is it the diligent and honest labor of our people, or has our dignity and freedom been robbed or curtailed in pursuit of it; third, for whom is that prosperity—for a few gluttons or for everyone?" Amidst a city that was once prosperous but is now extremely difficult, he instilled confidence in readers: "Surely, soon we will be prosperous, a prosperity that does not challenge the conscience or self-respect of any of us." He concluded: "In this city and at this time, as the elegant, pleasure-seeking facade fades a little, the spiritual height, the deep inner self of the city's people, will rise a level." The staff of Tin Sáng and Đứng Dậy quickly integrated into the fervent "post-liberation" journalistic atmosphere. The newspapers enthusiastically participated in promoting the revolutionary government's programs, such as re-education, resettlement in new economic zones, industrial and commercial reform, the elimination of decadent cultural products, short haircuts, shaven beards, and youth conscription, and criticizing the old regime. Journalist Chánh Trinh-Lý Quí Chung, as deputy editor-in-chief of Tin Sáng, had the opportunity to travel to Hanoi to cover a National Assembly session, experiencing for the first time the parliament of a communist Vietnam after being accustomed to the parliamentary atmosphere of the Republic of Vietnam. Author Lý Quí Chung wrote: "Tin Sáng made no small contributions to the way information was disseminated and journalism was practiced in Vietnam after 1975. In reality, the novelty of Tin Sáng was merely the application of journalistic practices from pre-1975 Saigon, selectively adapted to the journalistic framework of the time." Individuals like Ngô Công Đức and Lý Quí Chung, accustomed to reporting under the Republic of Vietnam when they could frankly criticize the government in the press—and when their editorial offices were shut down by the government, they could at least challenge the authorities—now found themselves constrained.